


A Hand in the Flame

by Lucy_Harris



Category: Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn/Wildhorn & Bricusse & Cuden/Bricusse, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Broadway, F/M, Frank Wildhorn, Gothic, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Major character death - Freeform, Musicals, Past Sexual Assault, Romance, Sexual Assault (not graphic), Sexual abuse is NOT romanticized, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Harris/pseuds/Lucy_Harris
Summary: **Knowledge of the musical is not needed; it is written novella-style so anyone can enjoy it.**Lucy Harris, one of many tragic victims of Edward Hyde's rage, finally has the story told from her perspective. Victorian society was not nearly as innocent as it tried to appear.**Inspiration is taken from multiple versions of the musical, as well as the book. Some lines of dialogue are from the show.**
Relationships: Lucy Harris/Edward Hyde, Lucy Harris/Henry Jekyll
Kudos: 11





	1. Introductions

**Camden Town, England (about 3 miles away from central London), year 1875-a seedy burlesque called The Red Rat**

Lucy Harris's body recoiled in pain as her manager, known only as Spider, raked a long, bony hand across the side of her neck. She kept her gaze steady, though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her reaction. Spider's withered lips breathed an odor of rot and musty fabric as he whispered in Lucy's ear. "Don't you dare be late again."

"Yes, sir," Lucy answered dully. Spider tightly gripped her ivory shoulder before shoving her into the backstage area of The Red Rat. Lucy's face maintained a stoic façade as she silently put her scarlet coat over her corset to prepare for her performance. One of her fellow dancers rushed to her side, placing a caring arm around her.

"You'll get out of here someday," assured the girl.

Lucy turned to her and grinned artificially. "I love you, Nellie. Thanks for being there for me," she said and embraced her beloved companion. Nellie attempted to distract Lucy from the sorrow behind those steady eyes. "Your hair is gorgeous, love. And this corset flatters your figure so nicely!" she spoke in forced cheerfulness, returning Lucy's embrace.

With a toss of her long brown curls, Lucy plastered a fake smile over her raspberry lips. "Well, let's bring on the men," she smirked, grabbing a brass-topped cane and taking her place behind the velvet curtains. She was not merely Lucy Harris now, donning her showgirl's façade. She was bold, gorgeous, resilient; ready for another fantastic performance. Nellie, along with Lucy's other backup dancers, formed a semicircle around their star performer as the curtain rose.

The audience of men, married and single, young and old, erupted in thunderous applause with the addition of hearty whistles. The hot stage lights were not enough to prevent Lucy from seeing a hundred eyes staring lasciviously at her scantily-clad form. The scratches from Spider's rebuke burned searingly on her neck but, as always, she simply grinned through her pain. After the clapping subsided, Lucy began to sing.

 _There_ _was_ _a_ _time_ ,

_I don't know when-_

_I didn't have much time for men._

_But this is now, and that was then._

_I'm learning._

She crooned the rest of the verse in the silky, sultry voice the men went crazy for. Careful to hold back until the chorus, Lucy strutted to the front of the stage and leaned lazily on her cane.

_I try to show_

_I have no need._

_I really do._

_I don't succeed..._

The music paused. The audience held its breath. With a seductive half-smile, Lucy broke the silence.

_So let's bring on the men_

_And let the fun begin_

_A little touch of sin_

_Why wait another minute?_

She walked to stage left and gestured to random men in the audience during the next lines, which they enjoyed immensely. Their eyes were drawn to Lucy as her full hips swayed. She drew her hand slowly from her stockinged knee to her waist. There it rested, and the other hand raised the cane high in the air.

_They say we may not pass this way again,_

_So let's waste no more time-_

_Bring on the men!_

Throughout the rest of the number, Lucy pranced about the stage in this manner, the eager watchers eating up every moment. The backup dancers perfectly complemented her performance. They wore black corsets to match Lucy, but not her red coat (her signature costume). Nellie sent glances to her throughout her song in hopes that it would give her comfort. Lucy took great relief in knowing there was a constant confidant at her side in this risky profession.

Belting out the final few notes, Lucy raised her arms in the air, leaned on one leg, and hit her triumphant ending pose. She heaved a sigh of relief as the vigorous applause once again filled the room. Regrettably, her relief was short-lived. Just as she began to take her exit, Spider emerged onstage and slapped her hard across the face. Lucy went reeling from the shock. She reached her hand up to touch the throbbing injury, but Spider pinned her arms behind her back.

This prompted an outcry from a well-dressed man in the audience who attempted to jump up onto the stage to defend her. Lucy's heart leapt with the possibility of rescue, which was swiftly snatched from her when the man's friend pulled him away. "This doesn't concern you, Henry," he said.

On the verge of tears, Lucy uttered one word to Spider: "Why?"

"I'm teaching you a lesson, my pretty little thing," he drawled in a disgusting attempt at a provocative tone. Lucy straightened her posture and fought back her rising panic. She was determined to remain strong.

"It won't happen again, sir," pleaded Lucy.

"If it does... it will happen to a dead girl," Spider hissed. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight. I'll see you in your room in a few minutes and show you just how good."

He traced her jaw slowly before releasing her and leaving the stage. Lucy stumbled down the steps leading into the main dining area of The Red Rat. The well-dressed man from earlier rushed to her, holding out his hand to assist her. There was nothing Lucy wanted to do less than interact with the patrons, but she couldn't risk further angering Spider.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" the man asked earnestly.

Lucy laughed. "Yes. You can tell me if the rest of my face is still there." She gestured to where she had been hit.

"It's a pretty face. You'd better look after it." He began to say more, decided against it, and dropped his gaze to the ground.

Lucy smiled inwardly at his awkward manner of flirting. It was a refreshing change form her usual customers. Her pale face acquired a faint rosy glow.

"I _do_ wish I could help," the man continued. "Won't you please sit down?" Lucy said nothing as she rested on the rickety wooden chair. She leaned on the splintered table and searched the gentleman's eyes for some insight into his character. He didn't seem like the sort of person who'd be at a burlesque.

"I liked your song. You're quite talented," he remarked.

Lucy noticed the lack of lust in his voice. Every word he uttered was so nervously sweet. She liked this man already. "Thank you kindly, sir," she said. "You're not the normal sort of man I get here. What's your specialty?"

"I'm a doctor. My comrade dragged me here, I'm afraid. He's a... frequent patron of this establishment." A waitress brought over two glasses of wine, and the man offered Lucy one. She accepted his offer gratefully, sipping the cold drink as she let him continue talking.

"I am sorry there wasn't more I could do," said the man. "You do not deserve abuse. No one does."

"I appreciate your kindness, sir. But there's nothing I can do about it. The one who hit me's my manager. If I fight back, I'm out of a job, and where else is a woman like me to find a job?" Before the man could reply, Lucy changed the subject. If they continued to talk of Spider, she doubted she could maintain her tough façade. Lucy wanted to focus on _now_ , in the company of this handsome, strong-jawed, olive-skinned gentleman. She raised her glass with a smirk. "Here's to the night. Here's to... romance," she said. Lucy turned on her charm in hopes of persuading this man to come back to _The Red Rat_. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled and her cheeks took on an even deeper shade of pink.

Abruptly the man rose from the table, leaving Lucy slightly disappointed. "It's getting late. I have to go," he said. He started to depart but stopped, pulling a small piece of paper from his pocket. He handed it to Lucy: "If any time... you never know... you need a friend," the man added. His brown eyes looked warmly at Lucy's for a moment, then he left with his black overcoat and chestnut ponytail swishing behind him. Lucy's gaze followed his dashing frame until he was completely out of sight. Glancing at the white card in her hand, she read it aloud. "Dr. Henry Jekyll, 46... Harley Street!"

She read over the card again in shock. When the man said he was a doctor, Lucy thought he was some young fellow just entering the field of medicine. Not in a million years did she expect a resident of _the_ medical district, with a house on the same street as the best hospital in London! Now Lucy was even more intrigued. _Hopefully I'll have a chance to use the card_ , she thought happily. She couldn't wait to tell Nellie!

Lucy practically burst through the stage door. "Nellie! Nellie, guess what just happened!" she cried excitedly. Nellie stared at her in surprise, unused to seeing her so happy.

"What is it, Luce?" she asked.

Lucy clasped Nellie's hands and showed her the card. "That's the man who tried to save me from Spider."

"And he gave you his card?" inquired Nellie in wonder.

"Yes! Look, he's from Harley Street!"

Nellie gasped. "Oh Lucy, how wonderful! I've never met someone _that_ rich in my whole life! Is he going to call on you?"

Lucy held up the card, smiling. "If he doesn't, maybe I will!" she giggled.

Suddenly Nellie froze, and her eyes went wide. Lucy looked intently at her friend's frightened face. "Nell? Is... there something wrong?"

Lucy sensed movement at the corners of her vision. She stood, paralyzed, as she watched a hunched shadow cast itself over her own. An alcohol-heavy breath warmed the back of Lucy's neck, and a bony, all-too-familiar hand wrapped around her waist.

"Clients can wait, love. You're all booked up for tonight," slurred Spider. "I told you not to be late."

Nellie screamed in horror as Spider haphazardly swung a dagger out of his coat and held it to Lucy's throat. In that moment, her façade came crumbling down. All the years of torture she had endured suffocated her under their massive weight. Lucy's anguished sobs echoed and magnified against the walls of the near-empty backstage area. She quickly attempted to stifle her cries, able only to reduce them to deep, sharp gasps.

Spider forcefully pushed Lucy forward, moving the dagger from her throat to behind her back. The blade poked through the fabric of her corset while she was led, agonizingly slowly, up the stairs to the second floor of _The Red Rat_. Lucy's mind swam with an endless vision of her regretful life. If only she and Spider never met. _If only_ Lucy still had a family. _If only_ that family had been wealthy and loving, to provide for their daughter a life worth living. Tears streamed down Lucy's face upon approaching her room, knowing what awaited her beyond that door.

Spider drunkenly pushed it open and dragged Lucy by her hair to the broken bed at the farthest wall of the room. He shoved her onto the mattress before walking back and making sure to lock the door tightly.

Seeing Lucy's terrified face, Spider laughed derisively. "Don't be so frightened, princess. Maybe I'll be merciful this time."


	2. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flash of Lucy's past is revealed.

**Reading (pronounced red-ing), England (about 42 miles away from central London and 43 miles from Camden Town); year 1869**

After a long, tiring day, a thirteen-year-old girl named Lucy Harris began a slow walk home. She, like so many other orphans throughout England, was a rag picker; she scavenged the streets for junk to later be resold. Lucy's waking hours were a ceaseless march through the town of Reading as she tried her hardest to survive. She considered herself lucky, though, to have the privilege of a place to call home.

Lucy lived in a long-abandoned shop which had closed when factories started to take hold of Reading. There was a legend among the local children that the shop was haunted by the dead owner, and indeed the rotting, boarded-up exterior was a sinister image to behold. But Lucy knew better, and once she had found a loose spot in the boards, she snuck in to set up a ramshackle living space. Despite the fact that the shop had been cleared out when it closed, the small cast-iron heating stove could not be moved. Lucy had a little tin pot on the stove which she used for cooking. A pile of scrap wood lay nearby to be burned as fuel. In a corner across the room was a basket covered with a cloth, and inside was whatever food Lucy managed to collect—mostly old vegetables and hard bread. To finish it all off, a cotton blanket and a well-read copy of _Little Women_ sat neatly against a wall.

Lucy pushed aside a wood plank and entered her humble abode. Exhaustedly, she slung her empty canvas satchel off her shoulder. Her hair hung in sweaty, tangled knots just above her waist. She went to the basket to fetch some vegetables, as she did every night, and robotically dropped them into the pot on the stove. A pail, placed under a leak in the roof, contained more than enough water with which to make a soup. After pouring in the water then lighting a fire in the stove, Lucy retired to a corner to read as her meal cooked.

_Little Women_ had been a Christmas gift she bought for herself last year—the single luxury in her life. Although the March sisters were not wealthy, they were a family. It was Lucy's escape, and, in a way, it was the closest thing to a family that she had.

But even this was no relief for Lucy tonight. Frustrated, she closed the book and put it away. Her mind was alive with too many thoughts to keep track of. And yet it wasn't truly alive, just full. Full of sadness, full of regret. Full of the utter lack of a future that lay in store for her. Lucy closed her eyes and just breathed. The air was still, weighed down by the pervasive scent of mildew. Sure, it was cold and damp, but at least it wasn't unbearably hot and humid. Lucy attempted to think positively. She opened her eyes and looked around.There was hot food on the stove. That was good! Her blanket, however worn, was at least sufficient for Lucy not to freeze in the cold English night. Thinking back to _Little Women_ , what a gift it was that Lucy knew how to read! And wasn't it nice to have this whole room to herself?

Lucy forced herself to smile while she walked to the stove, pouring her soup into a little wooden bowl. She tried to ignore the obvious moldy taste of the old vegetables. Her head drummed with an onslaught of contrived affirmations of cheerfulness. Lucy finished her meal, after which she immediately rushed to go to bed. She pulled the blanket over herself as if it would protect her from the overwhelming burden of living. Now that there was no bubbling pot on the stove, all Lucy had left was the dreadful silence. Her thoughts slowly tapered away as she drifted into the relief of sleep.

***

  
A dark, shadowy figure slunk through an alleyway, scanning it for anyone who might be on the lookout. After confirming the alley was clear, the figure stepped swiftly behind an old, closed-up shop. The cool night breeze was positively electrifying. He peered in through the boards which were nailed over the doorway. The figure saw a stove, a large basket, and a young girl asleep beneath a blanket. He quickly assessed the situation, finding that everything aligned perfectly with his (admittedly simple) plan. The figure ducked behind the opposite corner from which he had entered and awaited the morning.

***

Something had changed. Lucy could feel it in the air. She forced her eyes open and hardly blinked for several minutes. She slowed her breathing as much as she could, as if any sound she made would somehow awaken a monster. _That's silly_ , Lucy thought. _I'll get up right now and there'll be nothing there._

But there was. As soon as Lucy stood, something moved behind the boards of the doorway. She stifled a scream and backed up against the farthest wall of the shop. This day had been coming for a long time—the day when someone would take Lucy's hidden home for their own. She frantically searched about for some way to escape, even though she knew.

The only way out was through the door.

Lucy hastily threw her book and some food into her satchel, then put the strap on over her head so it wouldn't fall off if a struggle should occur. Next she needed a weapon of some sort. The pot still sat on the stove from last night, and Lucy estimated that it was heavy enough to temporarily stun someone if she swung it hard enough. She paused before the doorway, absolutely terrified of what she would encounter outside. But survival instincts took precedent. Lucy shoved away the loose board and leapt out of her home.

Right away a hand grabbed the collar of her dress. Lucy spun around to face her attacker. To her surprise, it was a boy about her age, only about thirty centimeters taller. He wore a yellowed cotton shirt along with trousers of the same material. His hair was simple and brown, as were his eyes.

"Nice place you've got here," he said plainly.

"Yes. It is," Lucy answered warily, her tin pot gripped at her side.

"What's in the bag?" He moved uncomfortably close.

"Nothing," she hissed, shifting swiftly away. Unsatisfied with that answer, the boy seized Lucy's arm and tried forcefully to snatch her satchel. Acting quickly, Lucy swung the pot as hard as possible at his head, then ran for her life out of the alley.

The next few moments seemed to pass by in slow motion. Lucy felt the boy behind her shove her, shouting unintelligibly. She toppled over into the street, and her arms landed right in between the wheels of a passing carriage. Lucy heard a sickening crack. At first she was too in shock to even comprehend what happened. The when the realization hit her, she dissolved into screaming sobs. Her left arm lay immobile and radiated with a deep, aching pain. Fortunately, her right arm was spared by holding the pot. Yet Lucy couldn't think about the positive or anything besides the pain.

The carriage which had run her over stopped. A man in a fancy black overcoat stepped out and picked her up gently.

"Are you alright, miss? Can you move it?" he asked, gesturing to her arm. His voice was deep and clear. Lucy attempted to say something but couldn't. She was able to swing. She was able to swing her upper arm, however, the broken forearm hung limp. There was a visible lumpy spot where the bones had snapped in half.

"It's going to be fine, miss," the man reassured. "It's going to be fine."

Lucy vaguely felt herself being pulled into the carriage. After that, the world went dark.

***

Bright noon sunlight streamed through the windows of Reading's only hospital as Lucy woke up. She lay in a plain white bed. Her broken arm was wrapped in a sling. A pretty blonde nurse and the man from the carriage stood beside her.

The man extended his hand to Lucy. "Hello, miss! The name's Simon Stride."

"I'm Lucy Harris," she replied, shaking Mr. Stride's hand with her unbroken one. Now that she had recovered from shock, she could get a good look at him. He still wore his black overcoat, which was adorned with shiny gold buttons. His boots were recently polished, dark leather. Mr. Stride was tall and thin with a balding head and a light brown moustache.

Suddenly, Lucy gasped. "Where's my satchel?" she asked fearfully. The nurse picked it up from under the bed and handed it to Lucy. "Right here, miss," she said with a nervous smile. Lucy sighed with relief.

"Sorry for being in such a panic about it. It's just that my bag's all I have, madam." She watched her words carefully, trying to impress these adults by using terms she deemed fancy.

Mr. Stride appeared shocked. "What do you mean?"

"I suppose it seemed strange to you, sir, but I've not got... I mean, I don't have much. I lost my blanket and foot running from that boy who pushed me into the street."

Stride thought for a moment. "Lucy, I have an offer for you." Stride knelt down to Lucy's eye level. "I know it's quite sudden, but how would you like to come live at my mansion while your arm heals?"

Lucy regarded the question with both fascination and suspicion. She could hardly contain her excitement, yet it was too good to possibly be true. "D'you mean it, sir?" she inquired cautiously.

"Absolutely, miss!" Stride said emphatically. "Although I can understand if you don't want to decide just yet."

Lucy thought it over carefully. She didn't know this man, and thus could not discern his intentions. Still, he seemed like an honourable gentleman. And whatever the risk might be, Lucy had had her share her hardship. She could handle herself it came to that.

"It's a deal, Mister Stride," Lucy declared in her best, most grown-up voice.

"All right, then!" said Stride as he stood up. "I'm going out to get my carriage, and then I'll come back up for you."

Lucy was about to ask another question, but Stride left in too much of a hurry to allow her to speak. Her mind was in a blur with how quickly everything had happened. The nurse watched Mr. Stride leave, then promptly rushed to Lucy's side after he closed the door. She took Lucy's free hand in her own, which was trembling, and looked directly into her eyes.

"Miss, you've not got much time, but I must warn you," the nurse pleaded. A chilling fear gripped Lucy's heart.

"Mr. Stride's not as 'e looks," continued the nurse. "He..."

A tense pause followed. The nurse was afraid to say something. "I can take it, ma'am," Lucy reassured despite her own rising terror. The nurse held Lucy's hand tighter. At last she spoke.

"'E's not going to take you to 'is estate, miss. 'E's going to take you very far away, to a place where man can... 'ave their way with girls like you."

Lucy's heart dropped. Although she was relatively young, she was old enough to know what the nurse meant. And she would have none of it. She'd find a way to get out. Making sure to put her bag on, Lucy stood up out of her bed. "Is there another door here?" she said, her pretended "fancy" voice completely gone.

"Yes. Just this way. 'Urry, miss."

Lucy heard the other door open and instantly bolted out the new door the nurse had shown her. She ignored the pain of her broken arm as she raced down a dark, musty stairwell. The spiralling wooden stairs seemed to stretch on forever, although Lucy's hospital room had only been about three floors up. At last she came to a door, yanking it open with her uninjured arm.

The doorway opened into an alleyway, which Lucy assumed lead into the main street. She made a frantic run for it. "That's her! She's getting away!" she heard Stride shout once she left the alley, Lucy increased her speed as much as possible, but her attempt was sadly futile. Over her stood a tall, abhorrent old man with tiny spectacles and stringy hair surrounding the bald spot atop his head like a halo of rat's tails. He grabbed Lucy, slinging her over his bony shoulders. She kicked, screamed, and punched as forcefully as she possibly could. The man had a disgusting smile on his face as he tossed Lucy into a carriage stopped in front of the hospital. He locked the carriage door from the outside. Lucy pounded the door but knew her efforts were useless.

There were voices outside, so Lucy stopped to listen to them. Even if she couldn't escape now, she could learn the names of her assailants and later tell the police. One voice she recognized as Mr. Stride. The other, she assumed, was the old man who had thrown her in the carriage.

"Where will you be wanting her, Mr. Stride?" asked the old man.

"Take her to the Red Rat, since you'll be going back there, anyway," commanded Stride. Besides, it's best that it's a place where no-one recognizes her, since we have a witness this time.

"Righto, sir."

"I'll ride in the carriage with her. We'll stop in Eton tonight. I'll take another carriage from there back to Marylebone so as to avoid attention."

"We'd better start now, then, if we're wanting to get to Eton before tomorrow."

With that, Stride opened the carriage door slowly, being certain to use his tall frame to prevent Lucy's escape. Lucy backed down to the carriage seat. "You ain't gonna get away with it," she announced with blind bravery. "I know your name. It won't be hard for police to find you."

Mr. Stride laughed ominously. "Terribly sorry, Miss Lucy, but I'm afraid the police can't help you now."


End file.
